Page 56 of The Feral Alpha

Rex pressed him into the bed. And the next grind of his knot sent Olson’s eyes rolling back, the pleasure so overwhelming that he blacked out.

When he came to, Rex was kissing his face.

It was still a shock, seeing George. But Olson swallowed his reaction more easily now, brushing his fingers through Rex’s hair. “I’m sorry.”

Rex frowned. “No sorry.”

“You were hurt for a long time, Rex,” Olson murmured. “I should’ve...” He sighed. “I should’ve helped somehow.”

At that, Rex snarled. “No.”

“But—”

“Bad,” Rex growled, shaking his head furiously. He moved his lips around half-formed words, looking increasingly frustrated with himself. “Bad. No Olson. Keep safe.”

“You—You don’t want me rescuing you?” Olson guessed.

Rex growled louder. “No. Hurt Olson.” He scowled, scared and angry all at once.

“Do you... Do you think they might’ve hurt me, too?”

Rex flinched, caging Olson with his body. “No go. Olson keep safe.”

“But I can’t just leave my mate when he’s hurting!” Olson frowned. “If you hurt, I want to be there with you.”

“No.” Rex scowled. “Keep safe.”

Olson’s chest squeezed. He pulled Rex close, hugging him tight. “Okay. I’ll be safe.”

At that, Rex relaxed, nuzzling him.

But it wasn’t as though either of them was good at self defense. Varrick had taught Olson how to shoot a gun, but Olson was pragmatic enough to know he might miss a target under duress.

And that made him nervous, because Rex’s history could very well repeat itself.

“I’ll get you more lessons,” Olson said. “I have an idea who to ask. That way, we’ll be more prepared if anyone comes for you.”

Rex growled, but he snuggled more deeply into Olson’s arms, dragging his wrists all over Olson’s skin.

16

REVISITING THE PAST

Two days before Rex’s dad was due to arrive, Olson brought Rex to the high desert.

“It’s called the high desert because it’s two thousand feet above sea level,” Olson said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Or higher. But you get the idea.”

Rex pressed his nose to the window, staring out at the changing landscape around them.

They’d been driving between rocky hills, steadily climbing higher and higher. Sometimes they passed smooth, beautiful boulders. Other times, they passed flat ground, with dense shrubs dotting the scenery.

“I always thought the deserts were boring and full of sand dunes,” Olson said. “Until one day you pulled up all these pictures of the rocks and plants there. And it’s just breathtaking.”

Back then, George had shown him a photo of the Pinto Basin, a wide, open valley with a road passing through endless shrubs, the sky tinting the shadows blue. There was a vastness to the place, peaceful yet full of life, and Olson had wanted to visit.

“We camped out in Death Valley once,” he said with a laugh. “In the summer. And it was still sweltering past midnight; neither of us could sleep. You ended up taking pictures of the Milky Way. Then we woke up late and drove around, but all the interesting places in Death Valley are so far apart, I was asleep for most of it.”

They’d worked part time jobs when they could, saving up money for food and gas for those trips.

---